The ugliest of Maine's five seasons has officially arrived: Mud season. Filling the time between the end of winter and the blossoming of spring, mud season embraces the worst aspects of both. The ground is not yet cleared of snow, and what is snowless is often above the ankles in mud. It is almost as difficult to get my little car off our road in the deep muddy ruts as it was to navigate the icy hill. Mud season's only perk is that is isn't winter, and each day we can watch the snow recede dramatically. I'm happy to slosh through the muck, churning out my little garden plot and knowing that soon I'll be able to plant my seeds, tend them, and watch them grow in the warm light of spring.